


Temperament

by punktius



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:45:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5197898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punktius/pseuds/punktius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As if their situation isn't precarious enough, Laurent decides to test Damen's patience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Temperament

**Author's Note:**

> Damen secretly gets off on Laurent annoying him and that basically is why I wrote this. enjoy. (s/o to Blandine for planting the seed in my brain that became this fic lmao)

Damen watched Laurent’s fingers curl desperately against the stone wall he’s braced against, his breathing uneven and shallow. Damen’s hands held Laurent’s hips as he pressed inside him, Laurent hissing as Damen’s hips came flush against his backside. Damen could hear voices a stone’s throw away--nobles, chattering and laughing in the dusky courtyard, the clink of goblets being held by ringed fingers and heeled boots clicking on rock. Laurent was bent slightly at the waist in their small alcove, his forearms scraping against coarse stone and Damen behind him, barely with any room to maneuver. Damen turned his gaze toward the direction of noise and could see flashes of brightly colored clothing from between a thick tangle of vines and leaves, a substantial amount of shrubbery obscured them mostly--but not completely--from view.

Laurent pushed back against Damen when he had been still for a moment too long, and Damen had to call on a heroic effort of restraint to keep any sound from escaping him. In retaliation Damen pulled back as far as he could and slammed back in, the slap of skin barely audible. Laurent unintentionally let out a small shocked noise and Damen’s hand instinctively flew up to cover his mouth, his other hand pressing firmly against Laurent’s lower stomach to keep his hips from moving away. He felt Laurent’s mouth hot against his palm, and Laurent shivered, grinding back slightly against Damen’s thrusts. Damen removed his hand, reluctantly--he knows that at any moment there could be a lull in conversation between the guests in the courtyard that would cause them to be heard, or someone could decide to take a stroll along the pathway and they would be discovered. Laurent straightened in front of him, his fine blonde hair now tickling Damen’s neck and chin.

“Do you suppose we’ll be caught?” Laurent turned his head to murmur the words below Damen’s ear. Damen felt the smirk against his jaw.

“Not if we’re careful,” he said, bearing down on Laurent until they’re both slightly bent over, Damen all the way inside.

Laurent took a moment to get control of his breathing, his eyelids fluttering when Damen moved again. Breathily, he said, “You act as though you don’t want the whole kingdom to know you’re fucking me.”

Damen almost scoffs at that but catches himself. It’s already dangerous for them to be talking, and Damen considers letting it go, but then--

“Yes, it’s as if I’m the one always instigating sex in public, where we could be caught up in an outrageous scandal at any moment.”

Laurent, smirking still, seemed as though he was going to comment, but was prevented from doing so by the sound of footsteps and voices, gradually but undeniably growing louder. Damen’s hips stilled, and his hand came up again to silence Laurent, but instead rested tentatively on the fine skin of his throat. He felt Laurent’s pulse just above his high collar, frantic beneath his fingers, matching his own, and he knows that this, too, is part of the game. He knows that this is why Laurent does it; the risk of getting caught, of being discovered rutting in the shadows and dust with the King of Akielos after years of being the infamous Ice Prince of Vere, so frigid and celibate he wouldn’t even dare touch himself. The fact that they never get caught--that they always (thankfully, Damen thinks) win the game--is only half the thrill for Laurent. For as much as Laurent liked to talk, there was surprisingly only a single time Damen thought they might give themselves away and lose at their own game: a sultry afternoon in Ios, when Laurent had ducked beneath a heavy velvet tablecloth just as Nikandros and a few of Damen’s other commanders were entering the room for a scheduled meeting with the King. Damen had warily taken a seat at the head of the table, and had to disguise a yelp of surprise as a strange coughing fit when mere minutes into the meeting, Laurent forced his way between Damen’s thighs and applied his mouth to what he found there.

It was the wrong thing to be thinking about, in this moment. The nobles grew ever closer to their hiding spot and Damen felt the rigid tension in Laurent’s body, the sharp spike of arousal Laurent experienced as their chances of getting caught increased. Damen could no longer see the nobles, but he could still hear them, and they seemed to be quite literally upon the alcove. An acute sense of panic seized Damen momentarily, and with effort, he forced it down. The game was not yet over, after all. Smoothing his hand up Laurent’s neck to his mouth, again pressing his palm firmly there to block any noise, he began to drive into Laurent’s body once more, setting the pace as fast as he dared while still attempting to remain inconspicuous. He felt more than heard Laurent groan against his hand, Laurent’s golden head tossing back against Damen’s shoulder so that his neck was attractively exposed. With his free hand, Damen reached down and wrapped a fist around Laurent’s cock, and Laurent became enticingly pliant against him.

Damen’s perception became a series of dismembered moments strung together--the nobles, pleasantly buzzed from the wine and laughing; the indescribable feeling of Laurent’s inner muscles contracting around him; a female voice that sounded alarmingly near and Laurent, shuddering, clutching at Damen’s wrist as Damen stroked him. Laurent’s eyes were screwed shut as if in intense focus, breathing hard through his nose, and Damen knew exactly how close he was, exactly what it would take at this point to send him over the edge. He changed his pace then, slowed to a steady rhythm, his thrusts matching up with the rise and fall of his fist. The voices were still near enough for Damen to make out entire sentences, loud in his ears as the words bounced off the stone walls.

A man in a lavish robe came into view not thirty feet from them, and Laurent’s knees buckled beneath him.

Damen cursed softly, barely a whisper, and held his hand even tighter around Laurent’s mouth. Their intruder was still in view, still close enough that Damen could see the gold embroidery lush against the blood red fabric of the robe. He moved forward and pressed Laurent against the cool rock wall, hoping to minimize the risk of being seen. Laurent shifted against him, seemingly oblivious to their situation, and sucked in a breath when Damen pushed him more insistently up against the wall in an effort to further subdue him. Damen, deciding on a better use of his hands, restrained Laurent’s wrists in front of him.

“Don’t move,” he whispered, irritation at Laurent’s flippancy rising in his chest.

“Why not?” Laurent murmured, shifting his hips back against Damen’s once more. He was doing it on purpose. Damen knew this even as the man he had been focusing on before stepped out of view, and the voices seemed to drift a bit further away. Damen was hardly thinking about them anymore.

“I thought the game was not to get caught. You seem to forget the objective.”

“Perhaps I have a different objective,” Laurent said, and the static in Damen’s chest grew hotter. They had just nearly been seen and here was Laurent, correcting him, maddeningly unconcerned about the whole thing.

“And perhaps,” Laurent made to continue, and Damen had half a mind to put something in his mouth, to really shut him up-- “if you could make me come faster, you wouldn’t have to be so concerned over being discovered.”

Damen, changing their positions in an instant, pinned Laurent’s arms up behind his back, forcing Laurent’s face and upper body against the rough wall. Annoyance coated Damen’s tongue so thickly he tasted it, anger tangling hotly with his arousal, still hard and buried inside Laurent.

“My patience for this game is wearing thin,” Damen warned against Laurent’s ear, voice coarse with ambivalence and lust. He felt Laurent suppress a reaction, although what kind, he couldn’t be sure.

“Then, end it,” Laurent said, voice steady despite the slight tremor in his body, and Damen knew this was the closest to begging Laurent would ever bring himself. With Laurent’s previous remarks still ringing in his skull, Damen set a numbing pace, his mind hazy with competing emotions. And Laurent was still talking.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Laurent said, tone infuriatingly in control. “I think you feign concern over being caught,”

“And _I_ think,” Damen interrupted before Laurent could continue to push his buttons any further, punctuating his speech by driving into Laurent’s body hard enough that Laurent was forced up onto his toes, a harsh breath escaping him. “that it gets you off that someone might see you, the golden King, always so poised and in control, bent over at the waist like this. That’s what you want, isn’t it? For everyone to see you this way, legs spread so you can take me, _all_ of me, like a good little sl--”

Laurent let out a startlingly loud gasp, his body seizing up beneath Damen’s. Although Damen was fairly certain they were now alone in the courtyard, his hand instinctively came up to cover Laurent’s mouth anyway, clamping down any further noise. Laurent arched against him, trembling soundlessly with climax, fingernails digging into the back of Damen’s neck as he spilled over steady fingers. Damen was not far behind him; a few moments later and he felt himself give, Laurent momentarily docile as Damen dragged his hips back to meet his thrusts, and emptied himself inside.

When it was done, Laurent rested his head back against Damen’s shoulder and shook with what Damen, after a moment, realized was laughter. Damen held him around the waist, nuzzling into his neck, and he was laughing, too.

“Your temper is becoming alarmingly short,” Laurent said, wincing slightly as Damen slipped out of his body. There was a soft playfulness in his voice. Damen took a moment to straighten his chiton before reaching down and pulling Laurent’s pants up from where they circled his thighs, and rested his chin on Laurent’s shoulder so that he could do up the laces in the front.

“It’s because I spend so much time around you,” Damen said, hopelessly fond. Laurent, surprisingly, was quiet, a small smile present on his lips as Damen finished with the laces. Damen watched him step down from the alcove, through the vines where he squinted slightly in the sunlight. He reveled in Laurent’s slightly disheveled appearance--the sweat-dampened tendrils of hair; the red, swollen lips; the way the pristine fabric of his clothing was now a bit mussed--subtle signs of what they had been doing.

“Next time,” Laurent said as he swept his long yellow hair over one shoulder, turning without waiting to see if Damen would follow, “I get to be on top.”


End file.
